If the Black had been White
by penofmischief
Summary: What would have happened if Sephiroth had not been raised by Hojo, had not been exposed to Soldier and had been brought up by a family who did not hesitate to give him authentic, undiluted and unconditional love. Sephiroth/Aerith and others.
1. Prologue Part 1: The Mission Gone Array

**Author Note: **Okay, Yamiko has officially been deemed a failure at everything having to do with the hideously over-important margin called- "life." She dropped out of her zoology course _and_ she forgot her Japanese Immersion Class entirely (when your teacher calls you up to make sure you're _okay_, you _know _you're a loser!). And while she could be doing extra credit or something _relatively _useful, instead she started up World of WarCraft again and went to the notary to ensure that she could attended E3 2008 (and it was fabulous, by the way). Anyhow, let's get back to point (and to the first person, might I add), shall we? I said I would write an Aerith x Sephiroth fic, so here it is. The first chapter contains an OC—used only because I know of no Turks who existed shortly after Sephiroth's birth (not including Vincent—because he was already practically six feet under by that time—literally, not metaphorically), but she doesn't even have a name, or a description, indicating she will not last too long. Also, Hojo is a whole bunch more sadistic and Lucrecia ended her life with entirely different circumstances (I'm _telling _you this so don't _chastise_ me for it, alright-ee?). Anyway. Thanks for clicking the link at least, and uhhh… happy readings?

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own Final Fantasy. I only own one action figure, at least one of every game (with the exception of XI—'cause I am unfortunately not in possession of a PC with a _decent _graphics-card), a dvd, a blu-ray and a wallscroll. That sums it up in a nutshell, people.

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**Plot:** _What would have happened if Sephiroth had not been raised by Hojo, had not been exposed to Soldier and had been brought up by a family who did not hesitate to give him authentic, undiluted, and unconditional love._

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**Genre:** Angst/Action/Friendship/Romance/Family/Adventure/Drama/Suspense/Supernatural/Sci-Fi/Fantasy

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**Pairings:**

Zack/Aerith  
Sephiroth/Aerith  
Genesis/Aerith  
Cloud/Tifa

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**Warning:** M(R) (Restricted) For excessive cursing, some adult content, violence, combat, images of fantasy-styled confrontation, gore, human mutilation, and other implications of suggestive material.

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_-Imperfect Paradise (Yamiko)_

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If the Black had been White  
By Imperfect Paradise

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**Prologue (Part One)**  
The Mission Gone Array

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The newest editions to Shinra's Turks continued walking through the slums of Sector Six, holding the hand of a young silver haired boy, who was just barely able to keep up. Her mission was on her mind, and all she wanted to do was to put an end to it as soon as possible—so she could work on other things that were less provocative (as hopeless as it was to believe).

Nevertheless, as gruesome, horrible and inhumane as it was, she had not gone up the ranks of Shinra only to go soft to an _experiment_, jeopardizing everything she had gained in the process. Said experiment was no more than three years old and spoke in the tongue befitting that of his age, but nonetheless held a slightly charming charisma suiting that of his sort.

Was that why she was dreading it? That she had to do away with something that had barely begun to grasp what the Earth had to give. A human soul—a child for that matter—who had been horribly used by everything and everyone he had ever known, for purposes even now he couldn't grasp. Hell—she even wasn't sure if she understood them herself. This whole thing was… well… 'Complicated.'

But still… whether she liked it or not, it 'had' to be done. When the chairman wanted something done—it would be done despite what anyone else may have wanted.

So why stall? If it was going to happen anyway—why prolong the child's anguish and misery? After all, the more he trusted her—the more it would hurt him in the end when he realized she was leading him astray. Not that she believed in that planet nonsense—that everyone was conjoined to the 'life stream' at the moment of their life's end, or whatever awaited after death—but she would shun the rest of what remained of her heart if he was to remain lost in confusion and pain.

"Wah we go'en?"

The little boy's voiced chimed like an angel's bell, making the female turk's heart wrench dangerously in her chest. Regaining her composure, she inhaled sharply before she stated, "It's a surprise."

"Waat es it?

Looking down at him, she closed her eyes and smiled, stating in a voice so nice, anyone else would have immediately identified it as a façade. "Well, _if _I _told _you—it wouldn't be very much of a surprise, now would it?"

The little boy smiled for a moment, but then tripped a second following it. He fell to the ground shortly afterwards, and fell flat on his face. A second following it, he broke into a series of sniffles and started crying immediately after. As this happened, the Shinra body-guard raised an eyebrow in the process.

It was hard to believe that this was once the specimen of what was supposed to be the beginning of the experiment known as "soldier." She knew all about it. From the samples they collected from the former biological exterior that had once housed the embodiment of J.E.N.O.V.A—came what was supposed to be their crowning achievement, which had now gone completely array.

The cells of the calamity had been injected into the womb of one of their most brilliant scientists, who had just gone through the process of conception. It was supposed to be a perfect birth—that would create the 'perfect' asset to their organization. However, with it came great cost. His mother began to have hallucinations—'visions' as _she called_ them— and shortly underwent severe traumatic stability on what had been stated as her otherwise perfect mental health. The scientists watched as their once brave and confident colleague drove herself mad—eventually leading to her trying to kill herself. However, the head of their team—refused to let her die—and forced treatment upon treatment upon the woman—which on anyone else under any circumstances would have been rendered useless. But whatever he had given her had worked on keeping the woman stable… well,_ physically_ stable.

Which prompted everyone to wonder what the hell it was, and what it was actually responding to in order to keep the wretched woman alive. It was horrible—that their own leader (and the woman's husband for that matter) put her through all of this, for a purpose no one knew.

But what they were all positive about—was that it was _not_ for the wellbeing of his wife.

Day by day, her belly swelled, and soon it came to be the time that it would be any day when she would give birth to whatever was inside of her.

But that only made her more passionate about killing herself, prompting her husband to have her instituted at his own facilities, and the placed on suicide watch, with twenty-four hour surveillance in edition to an IV strapped to her arm at all times, bearing strange and foreboding chemicals.

But even that wouldn't be enough.

For shortly afterwards, the former Doctor Lucrecia went completely insane and lost all passionate and civilized train of thought once possessed. Within an hour before she would have probably been in labor, she had torn her hands out of her restrains, (breaking several fingers and nearly crippling her wrists) and then savagely ripped the throats of her nurses like some savage starving beast, and left them for dead. By the time security had arrived, she reached her husband's storage room—and it was there, she had resorted to her last bet of ending her life. She unsealed a container of filled to the rim of liquid oxygen—and downed its contents like a drunkard on a binge, until she was physically incapable of consuming any more…

While twitching on the ground—Professor Hojo and his colleagues had arrived at the scene, and without another word, he took a serrated knife in hand and cut open her stomach just before the moment of her death—in order to retrieve what probably would have remained of the corpse of the fetus. Everyone in the room, other than being appalled from the sight of such cruel practices being inflicted upon the man's very own spouse during her last minutes on Earth, were shocked to see that the infant, soaked with the blood of his mother, was still alive, and were amazed as it opened its beautiful green eyes, as if this whole gruesome event had been a completely sound, normal and even perfect birth.

This anomaly was short lived, as the scientist immediately took the child in his arms, and returned to his lab in order to undergo what he referred to as a 'check-up.' The doors then slammed shut behind him—and there was absolute silence.

No one ever saw the baby leave the lab. They had guessed it had died shortly afterwards—perhaps there had been complications to the birth, after all; those that had missed the eyes of several experts. Hojo rarely came out—only during those times when he retrieved rations in order to keep his own personal subjects 'alive' as well as the latest tools and material needed to complete his experiments—nothing had changed at all. Was it perhaps denial that his line wasn't dead, or was it guilt that he had sacrificed his wife for something that didn't come through—and that he was wasting away in depression?

That's pretty much what everyone thought, until three years later. The scientists who worked through the late hours of the night—finely began to hear things emanating from Professor Hojo's lab; Noises of such misconduct and vindictiveness, bearing the most horrid implications that they couldn't be ignored forever.

"_No,_ Da-dah! No mah pwick!—_No mah pwick!!"_

"_We're not done yet!_ Now keep your little mouth _shut_ and hold _still!"_

"_Nooooo!_ Eht hurts! Da-dah… _Et hurts!"_

"Don't you _worry_—my boy… _this _is the seventh to last injection you'll have- _this_ night; Then you won't any more until tomorrow. I _promise!"_

Crying… Pleading… Screams… All from the mouth of a child, who had probably never known affection nor love in this world. There was no other way to describe it: It was absolutely disgusting. And although the scientists were bound to keep their oath of silence, with threats of death or the execution of their love-ones or families resting over their heads and brows—it appeared inevitable that this horrid event would eventually get out into the public.

And that it did.

Within weeks following this incident, someone, had let slip to an outsider the details as to what was going on in the research facilities of the Shinra Corporation. Rumors surfaced and spread, eventually leading to pending investigations and numerous protests. Within no time flat, Midgar was swarmed with news teams from all over the planet, questioning the practices of the Shinra company—which had just begun to stretch its impact and influence on the world. Words like child abuse, domestic violence and cruel and psychotic criminal practices flooded the countryside and eventually reached other cities and districts like wildfire. This led the people of the planet to question how far Shinra was going to take its medical breakthroughs and at what cost.

As the angry letters swarmed in, and as the investigators pushed to find out the source of the rumors—the Shinra President grew ever more bitter. As much as he wanted to find the source of the company's jeopardy (and hang him or her by the neck for letting that information slip out) he knew the higher priority came first, and within less than a day, gave out the order through pried teeth:

"_Allow the investigations to commence in due time, but first… … Eliminate _all_- of the evidence."_

It had not been an easy experience for Shinra's Turks. For starters, ProfessorHojo was not as easily corrected at they had hoped. In the process of his arrest, (and therefore impending execution) he had severely wounded several Turks (by releasing engineered and unidentified materia from his private storages), scarred and dismembered another and nearly killed an aid when using her as a hostage—but was eventually taken down through the means of seven bullets to the gut and another two to the head, which killed him within a matter of seconds. Watching him die on the ground from the numerous shot-wounds (for materia was too precious to use on someone as wretched as he was) the Turks regarded the lunatic with absolute horror as he used the last of his strength to look over towards the other side of the room—

—where a young boy stared and shivered at the sight of the immense and sudden bloodshed.

They continued walking through the lower districts of what seemed like the wrong side of town (_hmph…_ who knew that such corruption and depravity could be found outside of Shinra's world stronghold—the _shame_ of it all), one thing on the newly appointed _guardian_'s mind:

Get rid of the last bit of evidence by _any _means necessary.

After another few minutes of searching for an area of complete isolation and with the proper conditions adding to its cause (now that she thought about it, in this part of town, it seemed reasonable that some things could go _bad_), eventually, the amateur turk found her salvation.

Stopping in an alleyway, she scanned the area making sure there was no one who could see them. The young boy looked around as well, but saw nothing but iron walls, aged and corroded, but with strange pretty-looking markings painted on them (had he been able to spell and read, he would have seen the noun "avarice" before him). Once the location was decidedly deemed fit by her standards, the young woman, knowing she had finally passed the Rubicon of her mission, reached for the sheath inside her pocket, pulling out a silver pistol.

The young boy, (not noticing her intentions right away) looked around slightly confused, but not with some form of awe, for he had never seen the outside of the _bad place_ before, so doing something like this was almost like something out of a dream. He asked, turning towards his_ sitter_ with a look of curiosity on his face, "Awh we almost da—?"

Once he did, his face paled when he saw her poising one of those horrible killing-things in _his_ direction. Images of his father's death flooded his mind, as he stared at the woman he once thought he could trust, eyes paralyzed with fear, completely lost for words.

"Actually, young one," she spoke, sadistically, un-switching the safety with a deviously empty grin on her face, "We're here already."

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– TO BE CONTINUED –

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**Random Note: **There it is people. Hope you had fun, and see you around next update. ( I _hope…_)


	2. Prologue Part 2: In Safety’s Embrace

**Author Note:** After a horrible scare that her world was going to collapse (I'm _not-_ referring to the dark matter experiment in Switzerland—sorry, people but that's totally _bull_ _crap_), Yamiko is finally free of the worst of her life, and is finally ready to come back to the fan fiction world. Seriously though, guys, its been nothing short of hell this whole semester. But like those lyrics from a certain song—_I'm just glad that is OVER!_ Anyway, here you are… the brand new spanking chapter of my newer final fantasy fiction. Probably gonna go update a Yu-Gi-Oh fic or two (maybe post a new one, or that Reno Rude mishap adventure I keep hoping to post), and probably come back to this particular fic (if not, the other one) shortly. Cheers!

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**Disclaimer:** I don't own _Final Fantasy_… and frankly I'm glad I _don't._ Why? Because I probably wouldn't like it as much if I had totally control over it. Seriously, think about it.

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**Plot:** What would have happened if Sephiroth had not been raised by Hojo, had not been exposed to Soldier and instead, had been brought up by a family who did not hesitate to give him authentic, undiluted, and unconditional love.

* * *

**Genre:** Angst/Action/Friendship/Romance/Family/Adventure/Drama/Suspense/Supernatural/Sci-Fi/Fantasy

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**Pairings:**

Zack/Aerith  
Sephiroth/Aerith  
Genesis/Aerith  
Cloud/Tifa

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**Warning:** M(R) (Restricted) For excessive cursing, some adult content, violence, combat, images of fantasy-styled confrontation, gore, human mutilation, and other implications of suggestive material.

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_-Imperfect Paradise (Yamiko)

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_

If the Black had been White  
By Imperfect Paradise

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**Prologue (Part Two)**  
In Safety's Embrace

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Elmyra Gainsborough stared at the seedy woman with distrust in her eyes, but not without some pity concerning the condition of the _proposition _she had before her. It wasn't like those gangsters at Bumble-Bee manor to show any true compassion to anyone besides those in their best interest, and made the question why she should even consider taking this child under her wing. **(A/N 1)**

Elmyra then looked to the side and inquired, "Why should I trust you? How do I know this child isn't some sort of scheme for you guys to make a little extra dough by pick-pocketing those who attempt gestures of good will?"

The woman rolled her eyes and answered, "Please, mam… we are simply a place of business—" Elmyra indiscriminately scoffed.

Trying not to bar her teeth at this (after all, the woman didn't like this discussion anymore than Elmyra did), the woman continued, "Besides—even if_ that _were an option, a family like yours would has absolutely no revenue to speak of… considering you're in the slums." Hearing this, Elmyra felt her insides burn, wondering how on Earth this woman managed to criticize _her _so _easily_. But before she could act on any intent to spit that intended feeling out (and perhaps even send the boy away with this horrible scandal of society), the woman continued, "But I am sure that someone like you, with such good intentions would see that it would be a mere travesty to have a three year old on the work site, yes?"

Elmyra stopped short, realizing that the despite what she wanted to think, this sleazy win-bag was absolutely quite right in her words. The woman (knowing she had won this fight) smirked and pushed the child towards the doorway, "I trust you can take care of him then?"

Elmyra began, "I didn't—"

"Or maybe perhaps we could send him to Shinra, have him get an early start in that campaign for the glory of World Energy?" You know, where your husband is fighting could probably use some boys to haul weapons, traffic supplies or maybe even contribute to guerilla warfare… I mean, _think_ about it. They are_ so_ understaffed, so _weak_ against their enemy. And call me crazy, do you really think Shinra is going to care if a few men get shot down or go missing in action? Not to mention if your husband _does _gets butchered out there, you won't be seeing any remorse or compensation for his pathetic death and then—"

What happened next was almost completely expected. Feeling her blood boil and her gaze sharpen, Elmyra didn't even hesitate when she slammed the lower part of her palm against the woman's cheek, causing her to grab onto the side of the door-mantle to prevent herself from falling over. Tasting a small amount of blood in her mouth, the Bumble-Bee manor maid looked up at Elmrya questioningly, but before she could register anything (let alone give a suitable response), Elmyra responded, with no kindess in her words.

"No one… should speak of such matters… without knowing the truth of the burdens behind it. I will take the child, if you promise never to show your ugly face on this property again—nor the intentions of my suffering… or my husband…" Tears threatened to fall from her face when those words ushered out.

She then reached for the arm of the boy and tugged him in her direction, until he was standing right besides her. The boy was so lifeless that he didn't even deliver a suitable response to such as action. Elmyra wasn't planning on doing this at first, but in any case—it couldn't' be denied that the child was indeed well better off with her. That went without saying.

All that happened in response was the woman briskly walking away, not even tossing a gesture back in Elmyra's direction. For as far as _she _was concerned, the brat was no longer her cause and that was that—why dwell on something she didn't even give a shit about anyway.

After the horrid lady had left from sight, Elmyra inhaled sharply, and then looked back down at the toddler, and regarded him, while with some form of distrust, but mainly just confusion. It was very odd. He hadn't said even as much as a word or something since the woman showed up on her doorstep, and right now—he wasn't even looking at her. He was just looking down at his feet, emotionlessly—looking like nothing even mattered to him in the slightest.

It was obvious that this wasn't an ordinary child, but instead, a _broken _one both inside and out. She then began to feel guilty, question why she had even suspected him of such contempt. She practically wanted to shun herself for even thinking such horrible things about him—when he could barely look anyone in the eye. She then started, "come on, let's go inside." She then began to turn around towards the door, indicating she wanted to go back in, but the youth didn't follow her lead at all. Noticing this, Elmyra felt her inside churn (wondering what could have happened to this poor innocent child), before she relaeshed her grip from his arm, and slowly walked over to the area in front of him and casually kneeled down. Looking at him in the eye, she said, "Hello there, my name is Elmyra… I'm going to take care of you. Do you want to come inside."

He didn't respond at all. He just continued to look down, not meeting or even seemingly want to meet her eyes.

She pointed at herself and enunciated, "I'm Elmyra… El-my_-ra?"_

Still nothing.

She then bit her lip, wondering what was going to become of all of this. She then gently reached out for his cheek and asked, "What's yours, young one?"

Upon feeling the contact against cheek (and hearing the prhase _young one_) the young boy quickly darted backwards, and flinched looking something like a terrified animal, yet not one that could pose any kind of a threat. Elmyra just stared at him awkwardly, wondering if she should continue to probe at all. Giving it a little bit of time, she continued, "Your name," she pressed, "What is your _name…"_

The youth didn't say anything, but looked as though he were hesitating. Then, slowly, he looked up until he met Elmyra's eyes. Upon seeing the she looked at him with some form of shock.

Those weren't _ordinary_ eyes. No eyes on this planet ever held that kind of color—an eerie greenish blue light that was completely alien from everything she had ever seen or knew. But what really set her off were his _pupils_… They weren't rounded, like anyone else's… Instead, they were thin, vertical slits, looking like those of a basilisk's or some other ill creature that roamed the planes of Midgard in the dead of night. But despite all of those complicated differences, the one thing she couldn't miss, no matter how afraid she might have been, was the pain and terror embedded within them.

Feeling that familiar pity continue to engulf her insides, she then took the boy by the shoulders, gently—because she worried if she exerted any more force, the boy would break completely, and informed him quietly, "Come inside, please… I'll draw a bath for you."

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It wasn't long after that, when Elmyra was rummaging from her closet upstairs, looking for apparel that would properly fit her little guest. Besides her own clothes, she had a few pieces of clothing that her husband wore during the days their youth together. Such wonderful times, when whey would watch the plates of midgar being constructed as a silhouette against the now missed solely sunrise. She sighed a little bit, realizing how much she missed them… _him._

_You'll never see him again, yah know. No one has ever come back from Shinra while in serving in the line of duty, you miserable little tramp. _

She tensed up slightly, remembering what those unsympathetic bastards in the slums had told her when she was reminiscing about her love while he was away. And that miserable Bumble-Bee hag coldly reminded her about all the pain she faced because of his absence.

Trying to shake those thoughts from her head, she proceeded to look for something of her husband that could at least cloth the young man.

But the fact remained that her spouse was a strong and bulky man; so naturally, all his shirts were at least ten sizes to big for him. Sighing, she guessed she would probably have to go back into to town and find some clothes for the boy—because nothing in her husband's stash would even come relatively close to fitting the young child.

Hearing a small little cough behind her, she sighed knowing he had waited enough. She then settled with the smallest shirt she found up to that point (a little tee-shirt shirt sporting a cartoon-y baby chocobo and the slogan "I (heart) Midgard—a gift to her from a friend a while back) and turned around to face the boy. He did nothing but sate at her, his tiny unclothed body hidden by the pinkish bath-towel draped completely around his shoulders like a cloak. She then unfolded the shirt and explained, "Well, I'm afraid this was all I could find. You're just going to have to hold it up above your ankles, I guess." She then slowly removed the towel from the child's shoulders, and then placed the shirt over and began to gently it over the young boy's head. Once the messy tiny silver locks popped through the collar of the shirt, she rolled up the sleeves and tried to straight it out as best she could. Once it was at least in a satisfactory fashion, she pulled back, smiled and said, "There we go… Don't you look cute with your little night-shirt?"

The boy stared at her for a moment, and then looked down, seeing his new smock-like shirt—and stared at himself oddly, not understanding what or even how this whole thing had come about.

Well, whatever this thing was, it was certainly better than those little unkempt shreds of cloth those mean people had clothed him in. This was clean, soft and made him fee a little bit better. After continuing to look at himself from all angles, he slowly turned around (unaware of him doing so—being completely captivated by his new _look_), he then came face to face with the mirror that was positioned just inside to the closet door, which was open due to Elmrya looking through its contents. And with that, he looked at himself for the first time in his whole life—not knowing what he was looking at. For a while, he just stood, entranced by the picture before him. It was a smaller version of those people, in both height and proportion, scrawny but with shiny white colored strands covering its scalp. He then reached to touch this strange person, but when the image before him moved—he suddenly jumped back and hid behind Emlyra staring at it oddly. Elmyra nearly laughed, if not for that moment, when the boy, while peeking hesitantly behind her, began hissing at the image—as if warnng it not to come near them.

Elmyra stared, completely dumbfounded. _What kind of child hisses like an animal at such an early age? _She thought. Then, deciding not to completely dwell on that fact (as unusual as it was) she decided to remedy the situation, as any other responsible adult would do She nonchalantly moved away from the boy, who looked confused and looked back at the mirror only to see her in it as well.

When the image leaned down and touched the strange creature's shoulders, the boy jumped a bit, feeling that exact same touch. He suddenly sun around and looked back at the woman behind him, staring at her as if to say, _how did you get in there and out so quickly?_ Elmyra smiled and pointed back at the door, the boy looking back at it and seeing her in the exact position. She then smiled and said kindly into his ear, "You see that? It's us, dear… It's not going to hurt you. See?" she then waved her hand, the image in the mirror doing the same and smiled, "Say hi, mirror! How are you doing?" The boy continued to stare at her reflection a moment, looking at the second woman oddly, almost as if he were studying her. Elmyra then whispered his ear, 'Well, go on… Say Hi!" Hearing this, while coming to the conclusion that whatever was in that door wouldn't harm him, the a small, tiny sparkle found its way on to the young man's features. He then lifted his hand up, and slowly began to wave at it while saying as modestly as someone of his age could verbally deliver, "…_hi."_

Hearing this, Elmyra gasped, causing the young boy to suddenly look at her, who instantly paled, wondering if he did something wrong. He had nothing to worry about, really. For shortly afterwards, Elmyra began breaking into tiny giggles, which shortly evolved into a charming benevolent laugh. As the boy continued to look at her (only at this moment, not looking like he was going to cry), she slowly calmed herself down, and inhaled before she modestly explained, relief clearly ridden in her words, "Thank _goodness_. I was afraid you couldn't talk at first, and that _voice_—" she giggled a bit more, "that was the most _charming _voice I have ever heard." She then leaned down, reached for and ruffled his hair, while teasing in a joking voice, "Where did you pick up that charm, mister? Come on, you can tell me!"

The boy did not flinch this time, and instead giggled—like he was finally getting comfortable with his surroundings and _her._ She smiled warmly, and thought to herself, T_hank heavens… he's finally tuning up a little. _That was true. The youth before her now seemed less like a lifeless broken doll, and instead was becoming the child he should be. Now, Elmyra began to feel more comfortable, and with that, happier.

Then, breaking away from him, she leaned down on her knees and asked like a mother would to her child, "Do you like hot chocolate? Do you want me to make you some?"

The boy only smiled, and reached up with both hands to suppress himself from giggling, not really answering.

Finding this peculiar, Elmyra suddenly sat up a little bit and pondered aloud, "Hmmm… 'guess you don't know what that is, huh?" The, standing up straight, she explained while continuing to smile, "Well, only one way to get acquainted with such things. I'll start the water boiling. " She then began to turn heel and to head over towards the kitchen—

But suddenly halted when she felt a tiny tug on the hem of her apron.

Blinking for a minute, she slowly turned around, instantly taking notice of the boy holding the corner of the fabric in hand while down at the ground. Worried that something was wrong with him, (oh dear, was he sick?) she leaned back down and inquired, "Yes? Do you need something?"

"… …Se… Sef—"

Her eyes widened, hearing the boy attempt to address her for the first time. "Yes?" Elmyra asked, suddenly watching the boy intently.

The boy suddenly went rigid, lookin almost as if he were in a state of nervousness, but at long last, mustered up all the courage he had and looked directly at her. Elmyra stared at the boy, and almost gasped as the most charming and sweet smile formed on his young features.

"My… name… my name es Sef-oh-woth."

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– TO BE CONTINUED –

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**The following is not meant to be counter fanfictionDOTnet format. These are merely author notes. They are not meant to counteract the rules or restrictions of the webmaster's policies in anyway. Thank you for your kind attention.**

**Author Note 1 – **Yeah, I know… huge time jump between the two prologues. Sorry, I figured it would either have to be ambiguous (for the time being), or just a three part prologue that I am _so _not interested in doing. Don't worry though—you'll learn what happened between these parts soon. _Trust me!

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_**Random Note: **Awl… Aint that _cute?_ Seeing a young and innocent blood-sucking planet destroying murderer? I think I'm going to melt. … Anyway, there's the latest chapter. Also, I'm kind of in the process of looking for a beta, so uh…. (pauses) … Well, see yah guys around (leaves).


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